The Blade's Edge
by dark-angel-yuna
Summary: When Hiei injures a young woman's pride, he finds himself taking her as a student of the sword. What will happen between them? One-shot fic. Rated just to be on the safe side...


Author's Note:  Heya all!  It's DAY here, doing something that I swore to myself never to do: write a one-shot fic.  But that's okay.  This was a request from my very good friend, Hatsuri Botosai, so how could I refuse?

It's not that I have something against one-shot fics, it's just that my writing style tends to have a lot more detailed plot, well developed characters, and good backgrounds and history and stuff.  Oh well…the way I figure it, there's a first time for everything, right?

Seeing as Hatsuri honored my request, I figure that I must honor hers, but I couldn't think of how to write a good plot in 2nd person POV.  I am also running short on fic ideas at the moment.  So, this stays a one-shot.

I think the way I wrote this (2nd person, nor much detail on the looks of the character, etc) any avid Hiei fangirl can place herself in this fic, if she would so desire.  Y'all can thank me later…(that was supposed to be a joke, btw…a really bad one… -_-  I suck at humor…)

Newayz, I'm sure y'all are anxious to start reading this, so I'll stop rambling, and start writing…

The Blade's Edge 

You look across the tip of your katana, angled across your body, at your opponent.  He is short but formidable, cruel but reliable, cold yet strangely intriguing.  At least to you.  Any friend you tell would think you mad, and you know it.

"Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to attack me?" the man asks.  His voice is deep and harsh, but a welcome change from the birds singing peacefully in the trees.  You search his face, deep crimson eyes meeting your own.  And you take his challenge…and remember the first time you took it.

"This is my territory!  Leave now!"  Your katana is already unsheathed, naked in your hands, waiting to bite into demon flesh.  But the strange man simply looks at you.  You see a strange purple glow from under the white headband he wears.

_"You are strong."  It is a statement.  "A worthy opponent.  But not strong enough to beat me.  Perhaps after some rigorous training, but not as you are now."  He abruptly turns on his heel and leaves the way he came…through your territory._

_Fiery rage burns through your blood as you watch him go farther into your woods, hard won with katana, blood, and sweat.  "Come back here!"  The words come out of your mouth before you can stop them.  The black haired head turns, just enough so you can see the profile of his face.  "Prove it to me!"_

_His voice was skeptical.  "What?"_

_"That you can beat me!  Don't you know who I am?  Don't you know how hard and long I've worked to achieve all that I have?  I'm not letting you take it…at least, not without being fairly defeated."_

_"You fool."  Now his voice was cold and hard, stinging you as much as the katana sheathed at his side would.  "I don't want your lands."_

_"I'm not talking about my lands!" you scream back.  He doesn't get it.  No man ever does.  Not in this hellhole backworld called Makai that is ruled by men.  No one understands.  He raises his eyebrows in skepticism.  "I'm talking about my pride," you say in a heated undertone._

_"Fine then, I will fight you.  But realize that you have no chance to win."  He slowly drew his katana, fixing his whole attention on you._

_"Your cockiness will be your downfall," you think out loud._

_Then you change into a defensive stance, analyzing your opponent, not knowing what tricks he may have up his sleeve._

_"Well?" the man asks.  "Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to attack me?"_

You rush in with a lightening-fast strike, knowing that your exceptional speed won't help you here.  Your opponent is faster, but the margin has been narrowed exceptionally since the first time you danced this dance of blood and death.

As expected, the strike was deftly blocked by katana blade.  You follow through with a series of strikes, all seemingly random.  Yet, somehow, the man you're sparring with manages to block them all.  Then he quickly turns the blade of his katana and hammers your ear with the pommel of his weapon.  You sink to the ground, momentarily stunned by his blow.

When you glance up to the forest's canopy above you, you expect to see him standing over you, scolding you as he usually does.  But his face isn't there.  You hear harsh breathing off to your side.

"Get up.  You're fine."  As per usual, he drives you like a slave.  And another memory surfaces.

_"Get up.  You're fine."  A hand reaches down to help assist you to your feet, but you refuse it, not wanting to stoop so low as to accept help from the man you were fighting not two minutes ago.  You struggle slowly up by yourself, with marginal help from a tree branch, and shake your head as if it would get rid of the incessant ringing.  "I didn't hit you that hard."_

_Of course, the man has no sentiment for your feelings.  "You were indeed a worthy opponent."_

_"I will beat you.  I will hunt you down and kill you…"  Your voice is low and predatory._

_His eyebrows raise.  "Oh really?  You'd have to get a lot better.  And you'd have to find someone who would be willing to teach a lioness like yourself."  He turns around and starts to walk away.  But you won't let him.  He's wounded your pride.  And something else…something you can't quite identify._

_"What about you?"_

_Your question obviously shocks him.  It is some time before he turns around to face you again.  "Me?  You want ME to teach you so that you can kill ME?  I think not."  His eyes meet yours for a brief moment before he looks away.  It is at that moment that you realize what color his eyes are: crimson red, the color of blood._

_A half-smile graces your lips.  "You will be the teacher, after all.  You could hold back on your teaching.  Teach not quite enough to kill."_

_His eyes widen slightly.  "You're desperate, aren't you."_

_One look into your eyes gives him the answer he needs._

You struggle to your feet, katana still in hand.  You wipe away a little blood from your face, then look at your sensei, see him breathing hard for a couple more seconds before he recovers his breath.

"I'm impressed.  You've improved a lot over the last few months."  A compliment is a rare thing from him, but you can't just take it in silence.  You have to say _something_.

"Would you expect me to take all these beatings from you and _not_ improve?  What are you, some kind of idiot?"

The two of you always clashed, from the moment he accepted you as a pupil.  Your personalities are just as your elements.  Fire against wind.  Sometimes the wind blows so strong it blows the fire out completely.  However, most of the time, all the wind does is feed the fire, make it stronger.  And whether he wants to admit it or not, he has improved almost as much as you have during your time of training together.

But your last comment may have been a mistake to make.  You see the fire in his crimson eyes, and you back away slightly, until you hit a tree.  He walks closer, step by slow step.  He walks through a band of light managing to escape the trap of the canopy above, and the light seems to glint off the burst of starlight in the midnight black of his hair.

He covers more than half the distance between you when he sheaths his katana, but still walks forward.  The hand holding your katana is shaking slightly, but you will it into stillness, now wanting him to see your agitation.  What kind of punishment will he mete out this time?  And what did you do to deserve it?  Yet another memory comes bubbling to the surface of your consciousness.

"Idiot woman!"  Birds fly, startled, from their perches in near trees or bushes.  And your sensei's hand come down again, striking you across the cheek so hard it leaves a red mark and tears come to your eyes.

_"What did I do this time?" you yell back at him, expending all of your breath in the saying of six words._

_"What did you do this time?"  He sounds exasperated.  "You didn't fight."_

_"Yes I did!" you protest.  He saw you raise the katana, swing it, only to be blocked by his.  All that, numerous times._

_"No you didn't."  His voice is low and harsh.  "You must put your entire heart and soul into your sword.  Only then can it be called fighting.  I don't care if you're tired, hot, sleepy, wet, any of that.  You must train yourself to put your whole being into your katana.  And you must do it the same, if not better, every single time.  That is how you should fight.  And that was not how you were 'fighting.' "_

_He turns, and you let a single tear drip out of each eye before hastily wiping it away.  "I'll do it again.  I'll do it **better**."_

He turns so you can see the sharp profile of his face.  A small half smile comes across his lips.  "That's the spirit."

He comes so close you can feel the warmth of his body, abruptly realizing that your back is against a tree and you have nowhere to run.  You brace yourself, ready for a blow, whatever punishment he saw fitting.  Only, this time, there was none.  His hand grips your wrist tight enough to make your hand tingle.  Your katana falls, clattering on the rocks below your feet.

You realize that his other hand is resting on your waist.  Your clothes are damp from sweat, but apparently he doesn't care.  You hear his voice in your ear, quietly murmuring your name.  There was something in his voice that you have never heard before: unuttered emotions, passion…desire…

His lips gently brush against your cheek as they make their way towards yours.  You softly murmur his name, forgetting to tack the term 'sensei' on the end.  "Hiei…"  Then his lips capture yours, and you forget about everything except him.

Your arms come up to circle his neck, fingers entwining in his dark hair, pulling him closer.  He obliges, his body pressing you back into the tree.  You have nowhere to go.  Nowhere, that is, except for where he wants you to go: deeper into his arms, closer to him.

As he deepens the kiss, your last coherent thought is that one that shocks you.  You realize just how fine the blade's edge is between love and hate, anger and desire.  Then you fall headlong into pleasure.

Author's Note:  Whoo!  There ya go!  My first, and probably last, one-shot fic!  What do y'all think?  Please review and tell me!  Flames are okay…all they do is make Hiei-kun's fire burn brighter!

Hatsuri: *death glare*

DAY:  *laughs nervously*  Ha ha…  Yes!  Okay!  I'll keep my hands off!  Besides, I've got my red haired kitsune to keep me busy.  *looks around for Kurama*  I wonder where he went?

Hatsuri:  You lost him?  Normally you keep good tabs on him.

Hiei:  *to Hatsuri*  Now he finally gets a moment of peace.

DAY:  I heard that, shrimp!

Hatsuri:  *death glare*  How can you call my poor Hi-chan that?

DAY:  *shrugs*  It's the truth!  I'm taller than him.  Heck, Amanda-chan's probably taller than him.

Hatsuri:  *thinks*  True…

Hiei:  *death glare*

Okay, I think I'll stop my pathetic attempts at humor.

If y'all like this, and you want to make a request for a fic (I don't mind!  ^_^) email me at drk_angl_yuna@hotmail.com.

Oh, and one last thing…my request of a fic for Hatsuri to write is called 'The Saga of the Flame of Glory.'  We would both appreciate it if you'd read it.  *big puppy dog eyes*

Sayonara~

DAY  ^_^


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